


Only Gold is Hot Enough

by FrozenAbattoir



Category: Fallen Hero Series - Malin Rydén, Fallen Hero: Rebirth (Video Game)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-12-25 17:35:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18266144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrozenAbattoir/pseuds/FrozenAbattoir
Summary: Talking about Feelings™ with Angie is like pulling teeth. Crawling into bed with her? That's much simpler. After all, hate and lust are pretty straightforward emotions.So how the hell did both of you end up spilling your secrets and sharing your scars?





	Only Gold is Hot Enough

**2021 // Los Diablos, Free Western Territories**

Argent’s eyes greedily rove over your exposed body as the skinsuit peels away. “I didn’t think you’d want to go this far tonight.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh, come on. You’re not  _that_  bad looking.”

“Fuck off,” she snaps. “I mean the suit. I’ve never seen you out of it.”

You give her a quizzical look. “You’ve seen me without it plenty of times.”

“When you’re just Cerise. Not like this. Not while you’re still…” She gestures dismissively. “What do you call yourself again? Ghost?”

“It’s  _Geist_.” You can’t help but take the bait.

She smirks, stepping closer. “Whatever.” Her claws trace across your collarbones, light enough to make you shiver. “You’re different right now. Angrier. More dangerous.” She leans in, lips brushing your ear. “I like it.”

Your hands drop to her silvery waist. “Maybe I should put the suit back on, then.”

“Afraid I’ll chop you up without your fancy armor?”

You shrug. “You don’t want to kill me. I can tell.”

A flicker of real anger. “I told you to stay the hell out of my head–”

“I know,” you assure her. “You’re just… thinking really loudly. And it’s not about killing me.” You give her a knowing wink.

She glances away for a split second, and you get the distinct impression that she’d be blushing if her metallic skin could show it. Honestly, it’s pretty damn adorable. You sense her walls shoot up, blocking your perception of what she’s really thinking about. Specifically, what she wants to do to you. “…Shut up.”

“Make me,” you retort with a wicked grin.

Her answering smile is even hungrier than you’re used to. “Gladly.”

***

“What would you do if I  _did_  want to kill you?”

Her breathing is soft and steady against your neck and it takes you a moment to focus on what she’s asking. “Right now?”

“Mhm.”

You absently press a kiss to her forehead. “I’d let you.”

She stills, hand freezing in its slow journey up your jawline. “What?”

You shrug. “It’s the truth.” She’s drawing far too much of that out of you these days.

“I believe you.” She sits up, frowning down at you. “But why?”

You reach up and run a hand through her hair, cursing yourself for being this open. “Maybe I’m just bad at saying no to you.”

“Cerise.”

Your lips twist into a grimace and your eyes squeeze shut for a heartbeat. “It’s not like I wouldn’t deserve it.”

She sighs, takes your hand and pulling it close to her mouth. You watch, mesmerized, as she softly kisses her way down your palm to your wrist. A shiver vibrates up your spine as she brushes her lips to scar after scar after scar with an impossibly delicate precision.

Something inside you cracks a little further as she nuzzles into your inner forearm. “Why?”

“I…” You frown at the ceiling, trying to ignore the soft affection brushing up against your mind. “I don't…”

“Talk to me,” she whispers into your skin.

“I shouldn’t even be here in the first place.” You feel her tense up, and you wince apologetically. “No, not…  _here_. I don’t regret this. I don’t regret you. I just…” You exhale roughly. How should you play this one out?

She kisses the inside of your wrist again, eyes never leaving your face.

“Do you know how damaged Re-Genes get repaired?” She shakes her head silently. “Prosthetics, implants, sensory mods– all too expensive. Too valuable to waste on an expendable, vat-grown cuckoo.”

You poke at your right side, tracing the neat surgical scars. “Half of these ribs aren’t even mine. Neither is this arm. Same with my lower jaw and everything below the waist.” You laugh, and it’s a hollow, foreign sound. “Apparently my pelvis and femurs shattered on impact. Total loss. Used my right arm to break the fall, so it collapsed through my ribs and straight into my liver. Jaw was in too many pieces to save so they didn’t even bother.”

She makes a soft sound, squeezing your hand. You can’t make yourself meet her eyes.

“I don’t know how many they chopped up to fix me. Too fucking many. And one of us got sawed in half so I could walk again. Butchered like a fucking animal so my spine could be bolted to her pelvic bowl.” You close your eyes, squeezing her hand back. “I should have died when I went through that window. I wanted to. I  _deserved_  to. Even without Heartbreak it would have only been a matter of time.”

Her thoughts are smooth and featureless, hidden as much by her own walls as your hesitation. If you sense even a hint of pity, you swear you’ll wipe this whole night from her mind.

Or maybe you won’t. All your rules keep falling apart around Angie.

“I understand.”

Alright, you didn’t see  _that_  coming. “What?”

“When I changed–” her expression twists into a mask of revulsion– “It hurt so much I wanted to claw my own damn skin off. After a week I put my brother’s gun to my forehead. Only gave me a headache.”

You stare, too surprised to scan her thoughts for deception.

“I know what it feels like.” She kisses your palm gently. “And for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re still here.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, stroking your thumb across her cheek. “Me too.”

“…And If you tell anyone else about this I’ll cave your fucking skull in.”

“Have I mentioned how much I love your pillow talk?”


End file.
